Tuesday, February 25, 2014

Wednesday, February 5, 2014

It's proving to be another cold, harsh winter.
At least the old man can say he lived to another winter,
but that seems to be all. There's nothing but grey
everywhere - sky, distant treeline, snow-crusted earth.
All one unending dismal tone. The black fleck of a bird
breaks the monotony, but it's flying away from him and
in its grasp is the old man's tenuous thread to hope.